Drastic reinvention is not necessary. That's throwing the baby out with the bath water, tearing down a house because the paint is faded, trashing a car because the windshield's smeared. My problem isn't that there's something wrong with my life. It's quite the opposite. I like my life, I like myself, and so, I'm ready for more. I'm ready to launch. Bring on the next phase. Open the doors and let the bull fight.
I've come thousands of miles, have had more jobs in the last five years than most of my father's generation had through their entire lives, I've lived more places than my parents have lived, combined, and I dated more women in NYC than I knew throughout highschool and college. I'm a poor kid from a small town and I'm doing just fine in Los Angeles, even better than I did in Manhattan. Fuck yeah. That's a big deal.
I am, for the first time, confident that I can handle whatever life throws me.
So, I'm not going anywhere. This is where I want to be, this is where I'm going to stay, until I'm rich enough to figure out another dream. I can learn street-names, I can find favorite places, I can buy furniture -- it won't be a waste. I know who I am, I have my friends. I'm ready to get a good car. I'm ready to get my career going, ready to spend my days doing something I care about. I'm ready for more.
I've put down the roots, I'm not about to tear them up.
The problem is, I've plateaued in two places. Love and career. I'm hit by a double whammy. I know exactly what I want to do for a living, what I want to care about, what I want to do with my time: I know it in my bones. But getting there is a waiting game. It requires SOMEONE ELSE to take a chance on me. And so, all I can do is keep on pulling the lever, trying different ways, until I win. Somedays, like yesterday, it will seem hopeless, seem buisness-like and lonesome... but that's why everyone can't play til they win. The winner is the one who stands up one more time than the rest.
And that's not waiting for someone to save me. That's waiting for someone to be won over.
Then, add to that, just the same -- my love life. I want someone to care about. I want a framed picture on my desk at work, like other desks around me. For two years, I've given up looking for someone, but in the last few months, I've started scratching at the binds, seeing through the blinders. There are empty places, no longer filled by the fight to find a home, or myself, or a job, or friends. A natural feeling, a healthy feeling. The feeling -- that I want someone to share my time with. But for me to have someone in my life, it requires SOMEONE ELSE to take a chance on me.
That's not waiting for someone to save me. That's waiting for someone to be won over.
In both cases, once someone cracks open the door, the race is on, the fire is lit. It's time to earn it, to prove it, to make it work. To go whole hog. I've been crouched at the starting line for a long time, and I'm ready to sprint. I want to run. I'm ready for the big challenges. I'm ready for the danger. Fire the fucking gun! Someone! Let's go! The rollercoaster's been clicking up the incline forever.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- it's like trying to jump off the planet. All it takes is a lot of persistance -- and a little miracle. In my career, in my art, in my love-life.
Until then, the only way to embrace the day, I suppose, is to NOT GIVE IN. To not invent problems to fill the holes, but instead, to keep the holes open, ready to accept the good things I'm waiting for. Another day that I've not given up, not invented a disaster to distract myself, is another day embraced.
Another day that I kept jumping.